


Thomas Jefferson's Cumming Home

by MenagerieOfDarkness



Series: American History Redux [2]
Category: American History RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: American History, American Politics, Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Capitalism, Cock Slut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Anal Penetration, Established Relationship, Gay Panic, George Washington Likes it Rough, George Washington is a Dad, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Idiots in Love, Large Cock, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Pizza, Polyamory, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Spitroasting, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole, Thomas Jefferson Has Two Dicks, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Alexander Hamilton, Top Thomas Jefferson, electoral college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MenagerieOfDarkness/pseuds/MenagerieOfDarkness
Summary: After the nude spa incident, Thomas Jefferson has agreed to help George Washington run for president. But, to have the greatest campaign, they need a solid platform. How will Jefferson get Washington and Hamilton ready for a career in politics?This is totally canon don't @ me
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson/George Washington
Series: American History Redux [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122638
Kudos: 5





	Thomas Jefferson's Cumming Home

It had been two weeks since that fateful night in the nude spa, when Washington and Hamilton unloaded their hearts and cocks together, that Thomas Jefferson decided to begin to help Washington with his presidential campaign. Although the United States had never had a president before, Jefferson knew that they had to set a precedent for campaigns to come. He went to Hamilton and Washington’s apartment one Tuesday afternoon, ready to start the preparations.

“So, gents, how should we go about this?” Washington had just resigned as a sex cop, returned his jean shorts and everything. As much of a bastard as he knew he was, the powdered wig-wearing man knew he could never be that much of a bastard. Since then, he decided to live a quiet, gay life with his new boyfriend.

“Well, how about policies? What would you do as president?” Jefferson took out a large piece of construction paper and some markers, ready to write down any ideas. The three were sitting on the living room floor, separated only by a few planks of wood.

“No idea, old sport.” Jefferson rolled his eyes. Washington struck him as a himbo ever since he resolved the nude spa situation by allowing the suspect to rail him. Still, he wanted to be Secretary of State more than anything. It would look so great on his resume, and Jefferson couldn’t imagine just how many sexy men that position would give him. Although he thought he was straight, watching the intense, passionate sex between Hamilton and Washington, Jefferson realized that he and his two cocks were very gay. 

For as long as Jefferson could remember, he had two throbbing members where the average person had one. It never bothered him; if anything, it made him very popular at parties. But, it was hard to find someone who could handle two sausages on their George Forman grill, much less two as long and juicy as Jefferson’s. Alas, he had long since resigned himself to a life alone, but maybe one day that could change. Maybe he and his two pet vipers could find acceptance.

“Well, babe,” Hamilton spoke, his thin, leopard-print robe slightly spilling from his bare body. “Maybe you could create a national bank. Create a better economy.”

“Capitalism?” Washington seemed shocked. “That will never work.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow at that. Maybe there was hope for the young himbo. His boyfriend, however, might need a little more work before he was cabinet ready.

As time went on, the trio filled out several pieces of construction paper with their plans for Washington’s presidency. Hamilton ordered them a pizza on his 1700s landline phone, and they happily ate their fill. From his corner of the living room floor, Jefferson watched as Hamilton ate his slice of pepperoni pizza, dripping orange grease all over his chin, spilling onto his exposed chest. It was so nasty, and Jefferson wanted to rush over and scrub his body down with a pile of napkins, but the sight of him so dirty was doing something for his twin mini Jeffersons.

“Alex, at least clean yourself up.” Washington playfully rolled his eyes, using his fingers to wipe away a spot of oil from Hamilton’s cheek. He slowly sucked the meaty grease off of his pointer finger. If Jefferson didn’t know any better, he would think that Washington wanted him to see that. But, no, that couldn’t be. He was a guest in their home; they were free to act as they normally did.

Jefferson cleared his throat. “Well, gents, shall we get back into the plan? We haven’t figured out what the electoral college does yet.” He pointed at a discarded piece of green paper.

The duo ignored him, focusing more on licking and sucking the pizza off of Hamilton’s freshly-waxed chest. His robe was sliding down further, hiding none of what was going on in his basement. 

“Shouldn’t we get back to work? I didn’t come here for pizza and to watch you two twiddle each other’s dingles!” That stopped Hamilton and Washington in their tracks. Washington looked down, slightly ashamed at his lewd activity in front of his esteemed house guest, but Hamilton was having none of it. He crawled over to Jefferson, a fresh slice of pizza in hand.

“What’s wrong, good sir? It’s pizza time.” He crammed the slice into Jefferson’s face, the man’s eyes widening as his mouth was flooded with grease and sauce and cheese and more meat than had ever touched his lips. The sudden act of dominance rattled something in his two cocks, but Jefferson steadied himself. He would never allow himself to be submissive, even in the face of delicious food.

Jefferson slowly swallowed the warm pizza. He wasn’t sure what Hamilton’s end game was, why he was doing this, but it was starting to piss him off. 

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, old sport. But, I’m trying to get your boyfriend elected president.”

“Lighten up, will ya? Grab something to drink if it’ll help you relax. I’m sure we have a bottle around here somewhere.” He glanced at Washington, who shrugged in return.

“After seeing your drunken display not so long ago, I think I’ve been turned off of drinking for the time being.” Jefferson crawled onto a nearby armchair like a sexy frog moving onto a lily pad, limbs awkwardly flailing about. He crossed his trousered legs, staring down at the two men below him.

“So, you admit you have been thinking about that night.” Hamilton slithered over to him, resting his chin on Jefferson’s lap. Since his face had been sculpted by the gods, his chin was extremely pointy and dug into Jefferson’s sensitive thighs.

“How could I not? You two had violent sex in front of me!”

“And yet you still agreed to help me become president.” Washington came over next, resting a gentle hand on Jefferson’s upper thigh. His fingers rubbed against his trousers like he was petting a small animal.

“Maybe you want something more from this.” The two spoke in unison, and Jefferson gulped as they slowly removed his pants. His two cocks spring upwards like a Jack-in-the-box, embarrassingly hard. The two men below him gasped at the sight of them, and Jefferson wondered if he should just take whatever was left of his dignity and just leave. But, they didn’t seem disgusted or horrified. No, they seemed eager for more.

“I thought it was a trick of the light, but...” Hamilton took the left penis first, then the right, touching both as if to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him. Jefferson flinched as another’s hands touched him. For such a brute, Hamilton truly could be delicate when he wanted to be.

“Let me try it!” Washington pouted, powdered wig bobbing up and down as he grabbed at one of Jefferson’s cocks like a crow reaching for a cheese stick. Then, just as Jefferson slowly relaxed into their rhythms, the sensation of his bushwhackers being wrung out like two wet sponges, the two men managed to surprised them again. Giving each other a wry grin, they clamped their jowls to the two mighty cucumbers like a duo of starving vegans. 

“Wait! What are you gents doing down there?” Hamilton and Washington didn’t respond, their lips too busy showing Jefferson what that mouth do. If he peered down enough, Jefferson could almost see the two men giving each other a fist pump. So they had planned this, maybe even bought the pizza just to butter him up. But he had no idea why. Hamilton and Washington seemed like a happy couple. Why they would want to do this to him was beyond his comprehension, not that he could think much while the entirety of his nethers was lit aflame by their stupendous irrumatio game.

Jefferson sat stunned in his chair, silently contemplating what exactly was going on. A ripple of tension went through his body as he began to wonder if this was a trap. Maybe Hamilton and Washington were trying to get revenge for that night in the nude spa. Maybe they were going to blackmail him with their newfound knowledge that he liked getting his knobs gargled by two gentlemen. But, that tension soon melted away as he realized that spy equipment had yet to be invented yet, and, with Washington’s want to become president, exposing that he has had sex with his Secretary of State and secretary of the treasury may not go over well for his political career. Jefferson elected to instead enjoy this moment for as long as it lasted.

After several minutes, Jefferson saw the men below him begin to grow concerned. True, he had yet to spread his seed across their Great Plains, but he knew it was not their fault. After years of being single, he had singlehandedly enhanced his stamina to a godlike degree. Not even the hands of God Themself could make him blow his load. He needed more if he was to feel the ultimate pleasure.

Washington seemed to pick up on that fact. Slowly the man unbuttoned his skinny jeans, turning around so that Jefferson could take in all of his body, every inch of his protruding Oval Office. He wiggled his hips like a snake charmer urging Jefferson to move closer. And he did, planting his two cocks in Washington’s ass like a duo of saplings in some freshly tilled soil. As his fornicating engines slammed into the man’s flat cheeks, Jefferson saw Hamilton emerge from the floor and shuffle over Washington’s front.

Washington moaned as Hamilton shoved his ribbed spindle into his mouth. Jefferson couldn’t believe what he was seeing; he was engaging in a threesome when he should’ve been working on politics. But, Hamilton soon lifted a hand up, clearly gesturing for Jefferson to hi-five him. He reciprocated the motion, feeling a surge of confidence rise through his body. That’s right; he was Thomas motherfucking Jefferson. Politics could wait. He could do this.

Jefferson and Hamilton slammed into Washington in sync, thrusting inwards and pulling outwards at the same time like they were playing a human accordion. The man was pre-lubed as was customary in the 1700s, something that Jefferson was very pleased about. He couldn’t imagine the damage his cocks would cause if Washington’s ass was dry. But, he had ruined so many cum socks in his life that he didn’t have to imagine it.

“Hey, gents, so what about that electoral college?” He spoke between turning Washington into a shish kabob.

“That shit again? No one cares, good sir. Do whatever you want with it.” Hamilton sped up his ramming, his dingle dangle surely scratching the back of Washington’s throat.

“Fine. We’ll do it later then.” He said, knowing that it would never happen. Jefferson just focused on using his cocks to knit Washington’s innards into a warm, gay pair of socks. And, as his flesh popsicles skewered Washington like a corn dog, Jefferson felt himself relax even further, becoming one with the ass. The three of them were quickly turning into a capital ‘A,’ no, a Brooklyn bridge of sexual energy.

Before he realized what was happening, Jefferson lost control, and his right dick swiftly came inside of Washington’s thin walls. Hamilton started at him, judgment ripe on his sculpted face. But, little did he know, Jefferson was far from finished. Unlike most men who only had one ball for sperm — for the other was where the pee was stored — Jefferson had two fertile receptacles to be used at a moment's notice. If anything, this moment awakened his second wind, and he shifted into maximum overdrive.

With his right penis down for the count, Mr. Lefty had to make up the difference. Jefferson slammed his hips into Washington, now outpacing Hamilton. The future secretary of the treasury looked at him in shock and awe, maybe even a bit of horror. Jefferson doubted that the man ever saw something with such raw sexual ability, and Hamilton seemed into it. He leaned into Jefferson, allowing his plump lips to cement themselves to the man like an octopus sucker. He tasted like pizza grease, and Jefferson moaned as Hamilton drew closer, the kiss becoming ravenous, hungrier for more.

The three of them returned to their rhythm, moving back and forth like a steam engine pumping away, ready to power the whole country with each earth-shattering thrust. Although Washington was in no position to speak, Jefferson could tell that he too was incredibly aroused by the action; he had clamped down on Jefferson’s cranny hunters like a mighty oyster clutching its pearls, and, from the way Hamilton’s bit his lip every so often, his head game was just as astounding. It took all of Jefferson’s concentration to not nut right there at the sight of it all.

But, soon, the urge to purge took over Jefferson completely, and he drained his remaining testicle inside of Washington. If the others came before or after him, he didn’t notice. He felt both exhausted and reinvigorated, sliding out of Washington’s cheeks like he was unplugging a flash drive of feet pics and falling into the armchair behind him. The post-nut clarity hit him almost immediately, and Jefferson looked down, too ashamed to look the other men in the eyes.

Jefferson felt a pair of hands cup his cheeks and force his head upwards. Hamilton was smiling at him, all sweaty and greasy from the mind-blowing sex they just had. At that moment, Jefferson realized he had nothing to be ashamed of. It was okay to be gay, after all. The himbo, Washington, nodded as if he heard Jefferson’s thoughts. He, too, was grinning even as his innards were painted white from top to bottom.

“Well, Jefferson. Maybe you can come over next week. We still have to figure out how that national bank will work.” He lightly stroked Jefferson’s back, sending shivers down the man’s spine.

Jefferson nodded eagerly before giving the two men his regards and leaving their apartment. He felt as though he wouldn’t be returning to a stranger’s house next week. No, it felt as if he was coming home.


End file.
